Existence
by Amethyst Soul
Summary: Part One (finally) up! My own sorta Christmas story, with New Years added because of my unplanned procrastination. Anyway... Dib's headed for the hospital, but he won't be coming out. How does this effect him and his family? And how does it effect Zim?
1. Prologue

A/N: As silly as it may sound, I had a strong urge to post something today. Anything! This story isn't supposed to be up yet! But I want to see what your reactions are. Anyway, if anyone remembers that song fic I did a long time ago called 'Tears In The Rain', this is the sequel I was talking about. You don't even have to go read the fic again if you haven't read it yet (though, me being the review-obsessed person that I am, would be much obliged if you did ^-^). Please do enjoy.   
  
Existence- Prologue  
  
I've always thought I'd live to see my enemy die.   
  
But I guess that's going to be just about impossible, now. An ironic turn of events, isn't it? But what's more ironic is what's happening, now, as I write this final eulogy. It is not a eulogy for my own death, but for the one who remains alive. The one who I must accept as the final victor.  
  
If I had known things were going to be this way, there would be so many things I would have done differently. Kept my priorities in check. Stopped flying in the clouds and been 'more down to Earth'. Stopped chasing fantasies that I could never catch up to. But sometimes, on that pathway of life, you are swept away by a flood and are forced to head in an entirely different direction. I was swept away by something that had been completely out of my hands, and now I'm about to drown under the waters and accept the inevitable.  
  
I'm never, ever going to blame my mother for this. That was a mistake I had made before, and I feel terrible about it. But at least now I can ask her for her forgiveness, right?  
  
I always thought that if I had died, it would be the blame of an entirely different person. My true enemy. My true rival. My true equal.   
  
I say equal now because I realize we would never be able to beat each other. He may be self-deluded in his own contempt that he may think otherwise, but deep down inside he knows it as I do. We would remain at equilibrium no matter how many battles we'd fight, no matter how many times we'd try to kill each other, no matter how many schemes we'd come up with. Remain balanced. That is, until something completely foreign entered the war, and took one of us away into darkness. I suppose that I had always assumed it would be old age to claim one before the other, but that didn't turn out to be true in this case.  
  
Sometimes, when we live, we forget what it means to be alive. Who we choose to surround ourselves with, who we choose to affect, what we make of ourselves- all of these cease to matter until we meet our end. We often ignore the subtle things that aren't so subtle in the long run.   
  
But what does the 'long run' matter anyway, when it won't come for awhile?   
  
Not exactly good reasoning. Because you never know when your long run is going to end as abruptly as the life right beside you.  
  
  
**********Two Months Earlier**********  
  
  
Dib sat on the edge of the cold, steel bed, grumbling to himself and shifting his eyes nervously from the table of utensils and jars down to the floor. His father stood placidly next to him while his sister sat on one of the guest's chairs by the window, reading some book about the practice of exorcism of cats. The clock above the door ticked slowly away, taking its sweet time as the large hand moved toward the twelve and the little hand toward the three.  
  
Dib sighed, staring out through the window beyond where Gaz sat, wishing he could be out there, enjoying the warm noonday sun, relaxing under its sleepy rays as he dreamt up his future success as an alien-catcher.   
  
It had been a week since he'd first gotten the letter in the mail. The 'Death Warrant', as Gaz had so bluntly called it when she thought he wasn't listening. The letter that took the doctors twenty pages just to say one, simple thing.  
  
People always told Dib that he had his mother's eyes. Or his mother's nose. Or his mother's chin. Someway or another, Dib had something in common with her. But all too late did everyone realize that it was *too* common. By twisted fate of genetics, he had the same virus that she died from so many years ago. Like her, it was caught too late to do anything. Like her, he would die a slow, painful death. Like her, it was just around Christmastime. The time for loving, caring, joy- the time for a death.  
  
The door swung upon, and Dib was jerked from his thoughts. His pale face peered curiously at the tall man who had stepped in; long, striding legs and brown loafers. A white lab coat that resembled Professor Membrane's hung from his shoulders, and he bore a somewhat tan face. Wavy black hair that nested just beneath a shiny blind spot at the very apex of his head, and thick, black-rimmed glasses sat atop his oblong nose.  
  
His face curled into soft smile as his eyes rested on Dib, but Dib knew from experience over the past week that it was nothing but pity. Pity and self-delusion that 'everything would be okay'. All too used to such treatment, Dib simply smiled amiably back.  
  
Despite his discontent with the doctor's pity, he already was beginning to like this man. He greeted the family and went straight to the point: Dib would be admitted into the hospital any time within the next few weeks, when his family was ready to give him up. He would remain in their care for research of the virus, and possible testing to try and extend Dib's life. It was never said, but Dib knew the tacit length of his stay. He would remain there until his death. Until his subsistence was cut short. Until his body would give up the fight to the virus that killed 100% of the people that contracted it.   
  
He would reside in a children's ward of others who had the same sort of extreme cases of viral infestation. The doctor even jovially informed Dib of a boy slightly younger than his age staying there with the same virus, whom he would be sharing a room with.  
  
His father and the doctor then lowered their voices and spoke more to each other than Dib himself. He tuned them out and looked toward his sister, who had taken her eyes off the book only once in the entire conversation. Like Gaz losing herself in the book, he lost himself to his thoughts in the scenery beyond the window. The fall season was apparent as the golden tips of the sun dipped its grace into the leaves of the trees; some leaves slowly drifted to the ground, accepting their defeat as the stronger ones held on. A strong gust of wind blew through the city, and an old woman holding a little boy's hand pulled her hat down over her head so it wouldn't blow off. Some kids off to the side were throwing their backpacks off, glad to be out of school for the day, and creating piles of some of the flaming leaves as they fell from the trees.  
  
For once, Dib missed school. He hadn't been in it in over a week, and distantly wondered if they'd even recognized that he wasn't there. He didn't care if they were relieved that there was no 'crazy boy' around to 'rant about monsters and aliens and things that don't exist'. He just hoped they noticed; that someone would speak up and say, 'Where's the crazy kid?', and for one, fleeting moment, they would see that his chair was empty.  
  
He tried to keep his mind off the one thing that edged dangerously to the surface. He had close to two months left. Two months, and then he would meet his defeat. Leaving... the-alien-which-shall-not-be-named to conquer the Earth. He would be leaving the planet he had sworn to protect vulnerable to the menace with green skin. And that troubled him, because there was nothing he would be able to do about it.  
  
But he couldn't think about things like that now. /Think about the trees/ Dib instructed himself. /Think about the fall, and the fact that you're not in school, bored out of your mind./ He coaxed his mind into leaving his worries behind and focus again on the winter-in-motion scene before him. The sun was already dipping closer to the horizon, the sky in the distance tainted with dark blue, and it didn't even seem time yet for nightfall. But time would soon come. Time, like so many things, is inevitable.  
  
Dib glanced up again, realizing that his father was calling his name. The doctor had left, he noted, and even Gaz had shut her book and was standing near the door, giving him an unreadable glance before making her way out. They weren't going home just yet. First Dib would be forced to gaze down the halls of his new "home".   
  
Membrane took him to the ward of the hospital that he'd be staying at, hoping that the boy wouldn't be as uncomfortable when he would leave home for the last time and come here for good. But Dib could only stare solemnly down the halls with the checkerboard floors and dull white walls, realizing this scene alone was all too real for him. Even a week ago he didn't believe it, and even now he didn't believe it. But slowly, his mind moved into acceptance. And acceptance Dib feared more than anything else, because it also meant acceptance of defeat.  
  
This section of the hospital wasn't as quiet as the rest of the sectors were; there were other kids there to fill the void of their looming demises. Some sat in wheelchairs, riding down the halls as if it were a game with their flushed-faced nurses chasing behind them, yelling at them to stop. Some walked along with their arms resentfully attached to a tube, and the tube attached to some packet of clear fluid. Some were even strolling normally, laughing every so often as they stopped to talk to one of their friends. Their viruses had not yet had taken a full effect on them.  
  
They were all normal kids, just like him. All within themselves, they contained a different viral that would have the same effect on most of them. Dib could not help but look down the halls with a sense of belonging. In a sick, sad way, he somehow fit in here more than he could have ever fit in at school. He was in the 'inner circle' of this society, of this clique.  
  
He was home.  
  
  
A/N: Hope you all liked that short little treat. And I also hope I can finish it before Christmas. X.x' Expect soon a couple chapters to a top-secret fic I've been working on.... probably on Tuesday, to be exact (I'll be 17. WOO! Get off the roads, because I'll be driving through! No, seriously. Get off. I can't afford another driver-runs-over-innocent-pedestrian ticket) Anyway, you'll see what fic I'm writing *very* soon. Heh, heh, heh. 


	2. Part One: Settling In

Title: Existence- Part One: Settling In  
  
Rating: PG, for themes  
  
Disclaimer: You already know the drill about the whole disclaimer. It's mine, all mine, not Jhonen's, and not yours either (what Christmas spirit I have). I don't, ever, own 'Sci-ku'... that's some sick twisted thing the people at Revolution SF came up with. If you don't know, Sci-ku is short for Science Fiction Haiku. It's scary but excellent when nicely done (Go read Crimson Obession's!).  
  
Author's Note: Bah. This was SUPPOSED to be done before Christmas. Obviously, it isn't O.o but I guess can always extend certain occurrences (ahem) until New Years. Anyway... this will be yet another tasty angst fruitcake presented to you by Amethyst Soul, now with a yummy humor side, just $0.99 extra!  
  
Warnings: Angst, and some stuff implied. I'm not going to tell you what the implications are, but just know it's there. If you've ever read 'The Chronicles of Narnia' by C.S. Lewis, you'll know exactly what I'm talking about. Anyway, it's something that's pretty important to me that I've neglected for a long time. It'll be entirely obscure and metaphorical, so if you understand the clue I gave you above, don't think I'm trying to do something utterly out on a limb here. If you have any questions or comments regarding the issue, please e-mail me about it. I'd love to hear what you think.  
  
_-=*****=-_  
  
Dib stepped placidly into the hallways of Skool. He breathed in deeply, trying to push the through from his mind that this would probably be the last time he'd have to be here. The last time he'd have to smell the filthy, dirt-filled air. The last time he'd hear the loud clamor of students slamming their lockers shut. The last time he'd have to be wary of closets with the huge yellow asbestos warning signs placed in the furthest corner of the door- almost as if Skool *wanted* you to walk inside.  
  
And he would miss it.  
  
Crazy as it may sound, he would miss it all. He would miss having tuna and ranch dressing day, miss walking down these halls groggily as he wondered why he forced himself out of bed in the first place, even miss spending his snack to himself, with only his thoughts to befriend him.  
  
'I might even miss being in this class,' he thought to himself as he tentatively stepped into his classroom, feeling awkward without his backpack and only a white paper crumpled within his hand. He glanced at his peers, and then took one longing gaze at his rival before approaching Ms. Bitters' desk.  
  
Zim returned the trench coat-clad boy's gaze with a glare, and then returned to his work before him. He'd studied thoroughly on the winter months as they drew near, and was now attempting to find a solution of longer lasting glue- something better and more efficient than the cheap human product created on this planet. He sat transfixed over the configurations, when Ms. Bitters' loud voice suddenly shattered his thoughts, causing him to snap his pencil into two. He sneered out of annoyance for being distracted, but noticed the startled look in Dib's eyes that told him to be aware of something of importance imminent.  
  
"Class!" she barked, flowing gracefully but eerily in front of her desk before settling softly onto the ground. She clasped her hands together and glanced down at Dib, as though expecting him to speak; when he didn't, she instead lifted her head and spoke for him. "Dib, thankfully, will breach the locks of this terrible, terrible, worthless waste of precious dooming time with which we call skool. Say your goodbyes and return to your regularly scheduled pathetic lives."  
  
Zim's eyes slit into a narrowed and fixed stare at the pitiful Dib-human as a hushed tumult of whispers arose from the other students. 'What is he up to?' he thought. The boy stood there, digging his foot into the ground, not daring to glance up and meet anyone in the eye.  
  
Zita's hand rose, and the gesture silenced the class. "What school are you going to now?" she inquired.  
  
Dib shifted uncomfortably, as the question could not be answered easily. Finally, he answered with, "Why do you want to know?" It was mumbled- being the center of attention was not something he was used to or particularly liked.  
  
The lavender haired girl shrugged with an air of callousness and indifference. "I want to warn them that an escapee from the Crazy House for Boys is on his way, and that they'd better bolt you to your seat and surround it by a cage if they want to be safe."  
  
The entire class, despite the solemnity of the situation, burst into a fit of giggles. Zita smiled, pleased that her remark had thwarted Dib's expectation of a kind goodbye.  
  
Dib's face did not reveal how hurt he was by the comment, unexpected as it was. Instead he stood, glowering. "I'm not going to another school," he responded bluntly. "Any other inane questions you want to ask, or can I go home now so I never have to see any of you again?" His eyes darted forth from The Letter M to Old Kid, and finally rested on Zim's curious expression before breaking away to return to the floor. He turned and stomped out of the room, leaving his class in a stunned silence.  
  
Once outside of the school, Dib slid to the ground next to a huge Oak, glad to breathe in the cool air and be away from his class. He'd miss Skool, maybe. But he sure as hell wouldn't miss /them/.  
  
He was glad that his father's note hadn't included the fact that Dib would trade Skool for a hospital; their insufferable pity would be enough to drive him to desire an even quicker ending for himself. It was relatively quiet where he sat- most everyone was at school or work- and Dib felt peaceful, listening not to the ramblings of a godforsaken teacher, but the melodic whistles of the birds above him. His eyes slid halfway closed when-  
  
"So, Dib-human. I see you're once again up to something."  
  
Dib's eyes flung wide open, and he growled. 'Time must have passed much more quickly than it felt', he thought to himself, checking his watch and seeing that it was a quarter past three. He stood, angry that the blaring silence had been broken by his nemesis, and slowly forced himself to relax. "Yes, Zim. That's it. Part of my plan to defeat you is for me to move far, far away, so that it's terribly inconvenient to reach you and even harder to stalk you on the grounds of a school I no longer go to. That's the /smart/ thing to do."  
  
Zim's chest heaved indignantly. "Yes, well... it certainly sounded more threatening in my mind."  
  
Dib rolled his eyes. "Forget it, Zim. Just leave me alone. I don't need you around to worsen this whole situation any more."  
  
Zim's face fixed suspiciously. "/What/ situation, human?" he asked, but Dib had already turned a cold shoulder and was heading off toward his house.  
  
"Peculiar..." Zim murmured, before turning and heading toward his own home, contemplating what Dib could have meant by his words.  
  
_-=*****=-_  
  
"Gaz, have you seen my socks? The ones with the swollen eyeball logo on the sides?" Dib yelled downstairs.  
  
The jingling hip game music paused momentarily. "It's probably where your swollen eyeball underwear is," she yelled back up.  
  
"Okay, thanks!"  
  
The sound of the techno music returned again, as the house settled down to its natural order, when-  
  
"Gaz? Where are my swollen eyeball boxers?"  
  
Gaz sighed and paused her game again. "I /don't/ know, Dib. Why would I keep track of these things?" Realizing she could no longer concentrate on her game any longer, she set it down and made her way upstairs. "Dib, what ARE you doing? Since when did you start caring about where your socks and underwear are?"  
  
She entered to room to find him sitting cross-legged, an oversized black duffel back nestled neatly before him, and various books, clothing, and miscellaneous knick-knacks strewn about him.  
  
"Just getting ready," he mumbled in response, leaning over a stack of books. "Should I bring the Mysterious Mysteries book of Sci-ku Volume 6, or the special 18th Gold Edition?"  
  
It was a question more to himself, so Gaz chose not to respond. Instead, she asked, "Dib, why does your room look like a hoard of ADHD- infected children just stampeded through it?"  
  
Dib made a nodding motion with his head and gesticulated outward with an expression that read "Isn't it obvious?" before returning his attention to the books.  
  
She pursed her lips tightly together, and finally responded with, "You have /two weeks/ until you're due at the hospital. Can't you wait?"  
  
"You're right," Dib mumbled as he lifted the two Sci-ku anthologies. "I should bring both books."  
  
"You're impossible," she growled, and turned away from the room, slamming the door behind her and causing a picture from on a nearby wall to crash to the floor.  
  
"Maybe I should bring the 30th edition as well..." Dib mumbled, barely noticing his sister's absence from the room.  
  
_-=*****=-_  
  
Dib sat warily on the curb of the sidewalk, silently watching as a group of kids played foot hockey in the street. He was leaving for the hospital in a week and was spending most of his time relaxing in the shield of his house, but his dad, in a strange burst of sudden fatherly act, threw him out of the house, telling Dib to "Take in some of that sunshine."  
  
"Sunshine. Right. Pfftt..." Dib mumbled to himself. He leaned back, soaking in some of that sun and resting his eyes. Some of the medicine the hospital had given him to extend his life was so strong that it knocked the energy right out of him. Today, for some reason, he didn't feel so tired. He had a little bit of energy left, but was too lazy to use it.  
  
BZZZZZZT!  
  
The puck, a crude little carton that had once housed Bubble Tape but now contained rocks, whizzed by Dib's head. He sat up and decided to use some of his energy by running to get it.  
  
"Hey! Trench coat kid!" came a voice from one of the players. He was relatively tall and had messy, brown hair that came down over his eyes. How he could see and shoot so accurately was beyond anyone.  
  
"Who, me?" Dib asked, the puck still in his hand. He glanced at it and then threw it to the brown-haired boy. "Here. I was just getting it for you."  
  
The other kids stared at him, now, as the brown haired boy approached Dib. "The other team's missing a player and they're losing badly-"  
  
"HEY!" the dirty blonde goalie interrupted from her side of the team. She stood, hand on hips, growling at the two.  
  
"Okay," the brown-haired boy rolled his eyes. "Losing /moderately/ to us. Wanna make the team even? We have an extra stick."  
  
"Oh... eh... sure!" Dib grinned wildly, never before having been invited to a game.  
  
"Lose the trench coat, kid," the brown-haired boy said as he ran back to his team. "Listen up! This kid here-"  
  
"Dib," Dib interrupted, slowly pulling off his coat.  
  
"Dib," the brown haired boy corrected himself. "Is now playing on the blue team." He flashed them a grin with one missing tooth. "Now you have no excuse to lose." He grabbed a stick that was laying off to the side and tossed it to Dib. "Ready to play?"  
  
Dib nodded and leaned forward, setting the stick on the ground and watching the 'puck' in close anticipation as it clattered to the ground.  
  
*  
  
Dib ran into the house two hours later, sweating profusely, panting like the air had been knocked out of him, and pretty damn happy about it. "Guess what, Dad?" he yelled hoarsely as he slammed the door behind him.  
  
He ran into the kitchen to find Membrane quietly sipping some coffee and his sister playing her game. "What, you got beat up?" she asked, eying the bruises lining his face and the red scrapes across his arm. A manual mower could have just ran over his hair and there wouldn't have been a difference, and his missing trench coat revealed a torn and tattered blue t- shirt. "Again?"  
  
Dib chose to ignore her. He turned to his father. "I got a bruise! And I fell on the asphalt! And I had suuuuuuuch a great time! Can I take in some of that sunshine tomorrow?"  
  
"So, Dib finally found a life. How ironic," she said, not looking up from her game.  
  
"I'm glad you had fun, Dib!" Membrane said proudly. "And guess what? I have a surprise for you!"  
  
"Really?" Dib asked, hopeful.  
  
The professor made a grand gesticulation with his leather-gloved hands. "The hospital sent over /more/ medicine!"  
  
Dib's face fell. "And you say that with such joy."  
  
"Way to keep his spirits up," Gaz muttered, enjoying her position on the peanut gallery.  
  
"Well, I thought he'd be /happy/ that their research has extended this far. These pills won't produce any of the nauseating side effects the others had!" Membrane pulled out a pill bottle the size of a milk carton, and then slowly shook out one pill.  
  
The pill's size explained blatantly the need for a bottle the size of a milk carton, as it was six times the size of the pills Dib was used to taking, and probably close to the size of his thumb.  
  
Dib gaped at it. "How is THAT supposed to fit down my throat?!"  
  
Membrane stared blankly back at Dib. "It's not going in your throat, son..."  
  
_-=*****=-_  
  
Dib sat numbly on his bed, gazing at the bare walls and the dust- filled corners that had been neglected when all his furniture had hid them. His bed and desk now sat in the center of the room, along with various items that he would have to leave behind. Holding open his door was his duffel bag, which had grown twenty times larger than when he had first began. It was going to take a train of snow dogs to get that thing down the stairs.  
  
The past two weeks had been some kind of 7th heaven for Dib. No school to worry about, no pushy bullies to be bothered with, and he even found himself forgetting about Zim for hours at a time. Save for his morning pill intake, Dib enjoyed every minute of it. The guys from the hockey team showed up every other day after school, and Dib had befriended most of them. The brown-haired kid who he'd met first was named Tyler. The tomboy goalie, and only female, was Mari. And there were many others who needn't be named.  
  
Dib never before had that many friends in his life.  
  
"I start dying, and suddenly my life turns for the better," Dib muttered under his breath.  
  
"Ironic indeed."  
  
The voice had come from just beyond the door. Dib sat up to see his sister enter, no game slave in hand but rather a small gift, wrapped neatly in metallic blue. "This is for you."  
  
Dib peered at her curiously but she just shrugged. "Out of the both of us, I've always thought you'd be the one to outlive us. Probably find some river of immortality, like in 'Tuck Everlasting' (good book. Go read.) or meet some aliens that kept you alive for the mere pleasure of probing your human body."  
  
"Good God, Gaz, you've been hanging around me for far too long," Dib grinned, and stuffed the gift inside the side pocket of the duffel bag, the only part that hadn't been filled. "I'll open it when I get settled at the hospital. I'll need something to cheer me up."  
  
She leaned back on the door, crossing her arms and gazing at him from behind glaring eyes. "I don't see why you have to go to that place anyway. It's not like it'll prevent anything."  
  
"It's so that they can do some testing. So that maybe if someone in the future ends up with the same virus, they might be able to cure it," Dib explained.  
  
Gaz simply stood, trying not to let her anger get the best of her. "/Now/ who's on the autopsy table?" she sneered, and turned away, walking down the stairs. "Dad says to be down in an hour."  
  
Dib sighed as she left, staring at the surroundings before him. "Yeah. I'll be there."  
  
Relativity played a huge part in his one hour that passed both quickly and slowly- his last moments, where he both accepted and denied his situation. He still felt like flesh and blood. He still could feel his heart beating against his chest, and his lungs inhaling the shallow air of the cold room. He didn't feel like he was dying. But he decided that he would go to the hospital anyway, and let them stick the needles in his arms and probe him. Like some kind of freak of human nature. Like some kind of alien.  
  
He looked at the time and forced himself to stand up and walk to where the bag was. He leaned down and wrapped the strap around his stomach, dragging it down to the edge of the stairs, feeling the heavy baggage crush against his back as it tottered over the edge and caused him to tumble down.  
  
"Oof," Dib grumbled as the both he and the bag came to a crashing end at the foot of the stairs, the bag sitting innocently atop him.  
  
"Don't try and kill yourself before the virus does it for you," a voice yelled from the kitchen.  
  
"Shut UP Gaz," Dib yelled back, sitting up. He dragged the bag the rest of the way out the door and out to the cab, ignoring the strange stares he got from his nosy next-door neighbors. His ears perked up at the sound of their loud whispers.  
  
"Yeah... I heard he finally snapped. They're sending him to a permanent asylum."  
  
"Membrane must be torn. He put off the show for the entire week. My kids have been driving me crazy with nothing to watch!"  
  
"Strange. Membrane didn't put off the t.v. show the /last/ time his boy ended up in the asylum."  
  
"Maybe this time they'll make sure he won't escape."  
  
"His sister will probably end up there, too. The whole family's crazy if you ask me."  
  
Dib chose to ignore the comments as he trudged back inside to make sure he hadn't left anything behind. Next to the door was their Christmas tree, still dark green but fading to coffee brown on the tips. Sure, it was still early November. But seeing as Membrane wouldn't be around much for Christmas, they had gotten the sad, forlorn thing in case (and usually it was the case) Membrane didn't make it home from recording the 'Poking the Membrane of Science Christmas Special'.  
  
Dib's eyes searched the room, and finally rested on the laptop lying stagnant on the glass table. He hadn't opened it for who-knows how long, as the poor electronic had been neglected from all of Dib's playing in the real world.  
  
"Son!" Membrane called to him as he ascended the steps from the basement laboratory. "It's time to go!"  
  
"Coming," Dib mumbled. He grabbed the laptop, realizing it was back to the virtual reality world for him, and made his way out to the cab. He glanced at the house, and then at the street where the street hockey team would meet later on that day, one player short on the blue team yet again.  
  
_-=*****=-_  
  
"...and this is the psychiatric ward. It's best to stay away from there, darling, unless you're insane, of course. Oh! And here's the cafeteria! Don't give me dat face, pumpkin. It's /good/ cafeteria food, no matter what that fool FDA says. And here's the recreational room. You best be spending your hours here to get your mind off things, the white walls and cold rooms get awfully monotonous. It closes at ten and opens at nine, so you won't be able to spend /all/ your time there..."  
  
Dib glanced up at his 'tour guide', a plump and rosy-cheeked nurse that had introduced herself to the Membrane family upon their entrance. He double stepped to keep up with her as she glided down the halls in a sweeping motion, as if she knew it all by heart. What astounded him most was that she was carrying his duffel bag with ease, and still able to walk at a pace faster than Dib. Despite her bulkiness, the woman spoke in a high- pitched, chattery tone that did not seem to match her stature. Presently, Dib tuned her out in order to take in his surroundings. It had been weeks since he had last been here, and now it all seemed... different.  
  
Sure, the ugly black and white checkered tiles were still there. It held the same bright white walls, and the same virus infected kids. But the entire air, the feeling of belonging but at the same time dreading this moment of inevitable acceptance all at once warped his view of this place. This 'home'.  
  
His father had to branch off to sign some paper work, and Gaz went with him. Which left Dib alone with this nurse- this cheerful reminder that there was such a thing as a devil on Earth.  
  
The hall gradually quieted as they continued walking, and there were less children and more shut doors, all bleach white with silver numbers adorning them. The nurse finally stopped at a door with the numbers 6913 hanging solemnly over it, seeming to watch their every move. Dib shivered with the creepy feeling of being watched.  
  
She opened the door softly and knelt down to match Dib's height. "Go on in, sweetie," she said, nudging him in the back when she noticed his hesitation. Dib smelt her breath- a mixture of faded peppermint and cinnamon- and decided to take his chances within the room.  
  
He glanced around at the normal hospital setting. The room was divided in two by a hanging plastic blue curtain. The bed was neatly made with soft blue blankets and a white pillow. To the left of the bed was a table with a red digital clock on it, and to the right was a huge respiratory/cardiac machine. Though it was day out, no light flooded the room. Instead, a hanging dark blue curtain shielded all luminosity. This left a shadowy setting on the room that forced Dib into a fit of blinking in order to adjust to the lack of light.  
  
The nurse set the duffel bag atop Dib's bed and then pulled the plastic curtains away to reveal a sleeping boy with long, black tussled hair. His arm was attached to a small cardiac machine that bleeped every second or so, and his closed eyes were facing up toward the ceiling.  
  
"Poor thing. The doctor's keep predicting his death each month for the past entire year and he just keeps truckin' on," the nurse said softly, taking the moment to grab a half-filled glass of water from the table and an empty pill box labeled 'Friday'.  
  
"Doesn't he have the same thing I do?" Dib asked, letting his curiosity control him. He hoped secretly that he'd be able to enjoy a life extension as well.  
  
"Somewhat. You have a bizarre disease, yes indeedy," she replied matter-of-factly. "It's the same viral, but reacts differently to different bodies. That's why it's so darn difficult to cure."  
  
"Do you know /everything/ about /every/ disease around here?"  
  
The woman gave a slight chuckle. "Not everything, but I do know a bit more than those simple-minded doctors who care only 'bout the biology of it all. It's tacit, I tell ya, but they keep me around because I'm so darn good at what I do. I know what each little one needs, and when it's time for each little one ta go."  
  
Dib nodded slowly and sat on the bed. "When's my dad and sister going to come?"  
  
"Soon, babe," she extended a chubby hand and ruffled his jet black hair. "Jus' as soon as they get that fool paperwork done. I dun tell 'em that they needn't bother with such things, but they hardly listen to a little old nurse like me."  
  
The boy on the other side of the room stirred, slightly, and the nurse stood. "I reckon Matt'll be awake, soon. Better get 'im some of his meds."  
  
"Matt?" Dib mumbled to himself. The nurse quickly left and Dib glanced over at his new roommate- Matt- hoping unconsciously that the boy would be enjoyable to live with. If he shared a room with someone as narcissistic as Zim or as intimidating as Torque, he wouldn't know what to do.  
  
He hopped off the bed and decided to get some of his things put away. It was going to be a long winter.  
  
_-=*****=-_  
  
Outside the hospital stood a short boy, who, upon a closer look, had tinted skin the color of olives. This boy stood for a long time with narrowed eyes, still unsure of the 'situation' the Dib-human had talked about before, but slowly putting two and two together, as he'd spied on his rival for the past few weeks.  
  
Anyone happening to look out their window at that time might find it odd, or even eerie, that this short boy was just standing on the sidewalk, /staring/. But no one was watching, and so, with a turn, the small boy vanished within a crowd of people, completely unnoticed.  
  
End Part One.  
  
  
  
A/N: Tomorrow's the most famous shopping day of the year! SHHHHOPPPP! BUYYYYYY! STUFFFF! Spend, my zombies, spend. For you have promises to keep. And miles to go before you sleep (o.O name the author of those last two lines and you get a poisoned cookie) Guess what? It's Christmas!!! And everyone should smile today (unless you live where it doesn't snow. And the song, 'I'm dreaming of a white Christmas', has no meaning. Damn sun.) Hope you guys got what you wanted. ::stares at the boxes and boxes of underwear her mom had given her:: At least it's the thought that counts. 


End file.
